ENTRY 1

DEDICATION 

My memoir is dedicated to my family. Thank you for your encouragement. and the sacrifices you've made on my behalf. I would not be the person I am today without your guidance and support.

FASTEN YOUR SEATBELTS...IT'S A GIRL

I was born in April. Two and a half months ahead of schedule. I wasn't supposed to make my appearance until July. I couldn't wait. I wanted to see the world. Okay, St Louis, was not the world, but It was a beginning. I had things to do. Or, and this is probably more accurate, God knew I would not enjoy celebrating my birthday in July. Nope. Fireworks on my birthday? The way I  startle? Not happening.

Cerebral palsy can occur shortly before, during the birthing process, or shortly after. The cerebral cortex of the brain is either damaged or underdeveloped. My mom had been bleeding for eight days before I was born. I can only imagine how frightened she must have been. Today she would have undergone a C-section. I would have been. rushed to the NICU.  Maybe I would not have been as severely disabled as I am if these options had been available. I will never know. My mom told me she was pretty sure the doctor suspected something was wrong with me, but he didn't want to tell her.

In 1957, April 19th fell on Good Friday. When I was little I would sometimes tell people I had two birthdays because well technically I do. Hey, I was a kid looking for more presents what can I say? You know you'd have done the same thing. I think I was born in the late afternoon around five o'clock. My mom said I looked like a tiny spider monkey, all arms and legs with a mass of black hair. She didn't get to hold me when I was born. I was placed in an incubator immediately  I was not weighed when I was born. Two days later, on Easter Sunday, I weighed in at a whopping two pounds nine ounces.

The windowed box would be my home for the next two and a half months. I saw the photos. I did not look happy in my temporary home.  I blame living in the windowed box for two and a half months for my fear of being alone For my first months of life no one held me. I was cared for by medical professionals. My parents could not touch me. They could only look at me through a window.  No wonder I have issues!!

And my mom? I can't begin to imagine how she must have felt being discharged from the hospital, but leaving me behind. She came to see me every day I imagined her looking at me through the window trying to connect with me in some way. As for me, I  believe I knew she was there. We'd meet soon. I would meet all of my family soon. I just had to be patient